Love is Like the Wind
by cestlavie0919
Summary: A Walk To Remember AU: Stiles has frontotemporal dementia. There are moments when he's completely himself, but he can't express it. There are moments when he has no idea who anyone around him is, still Derek is there to help him make sense of the world around him. This story will deal with heavy themes. I'll try to post trigger warnings as necessary. M for mature themes.
1. Chapter 1

This story might be incredibly triggering. Read at your own risk. It is mostly Seasons 1 and 2 compliant, but disregards almost all of season 3. It is based on a gifset au by Tumblr user Tilneyhale.

* * *

The fog was lifting. The beeping sound filled his ears. As he looked around, he had no idea where he was or how he got there. His heart raced and the beeping got quicker. There was a man sitting beside the bed. He was tall, muscular, with stubble. His intense eyes were intimidating. "Who are you?" he asked. He had to keep sentences simple or the words would get mixed up between his brain and his mouth.

"I'm Derek," the man replied calmly. This was now the 54th introduction he'd given to the boy in the hospital bed. Sometimes he woke up perfectly lucid. Today wasn't one of those days, it seemed.

Stiles took a deep breath, concentrating again in an attempt to get more information. "Why… you're here?" He knew he messed that one up and frustration fell over his face.

"I'm your boyfriend," Derek reminded him.

"I don't know you," Stiles replied with considerable struggle. He couldn't have a boyfriend. He'd remember if he did. He'd especially remember if he had a boyfriend who was that handsome.

"You did once," Derek said wistfully.

The man looked so sad that Stiles figured perhaps he was telling the truth. "What's happening?"

Someone else entered the room. He was much older than Derek. He seemed vaguely familiar, but Stiles still couldn't place him. "How is he?"

"He just woke up," Derek replied.

The older man furrowed his brow and Derek responded with a simple head shake. He knew they were somehow talking about him, but to call them out on it would require too much effort and there was no guarantee that what he wanted to say would end up being what actually came out of his mouth.

"Are you hungry?" the older man asked Stiles.

Stiles had to think for a second, trying to remember what "hungry" might feel like before deciding to just say "Yes."

The older man nodded and disappeared again. "Who is he?" Stiles asked.

"That's your dad," Derek replied.

Realizing that he had parents, Stiles became curious. He took a deep breath before forcing out his next question. "Where's my mom?"

This was the first time Stiles had ever asked this question. Usually he asked the same questions and Derek gave him the answers, just thankful to hear Stiles' voice for twenty minutes or so before the effort of talking rendered the young man too tired to stay awake. He, Scott, and Stiles' father had made a pact: they would always answer Stiles honestly, even if the information might be painful to reveal. "She's no longer with us," Derek replied, euphemistically.

Though he knew that phrase had some significance, he wasn't sure what it really meant. "Ran away?" he asked.

Derek leaned closer, taking Stiles' hand in his. "No. She… uh…" he struggled, not sure how Stiles would react. "She died." He didn't mention that she died from the exact thing that was slowly claiming him.

"Am I die?" he asked. _No_, he thought. _That was wrong._ He hit himself repeatedly, trying to force the words to come out properly. Derek reached up and grabbed his hands to prevent any attempts at self-harm. If the nurses saw it, they'd put Stiles in wrist restraints and Derek would likely be arrested for killing one of them. Stiles was already so vulnerable. Derek couldn't stomach seeing him tied down like that. Even imagining that possibility made him nauseous.

"We all eventually die," Derek replied. It wasn't a lie, per se. Derek just didn't want to think about the day when Stiles wouldn't wake up from one of his many long naps.

The answer satisfied Stiles temporarily. He yawned, his energy entirely sapped. _What was his name? It started with the letter D_, he thought. _Daniel? No. _"I want to sleep now," he whispered, rolling onto his side and closed his eyes. "Goodnight, David."

* * *

_It was the largest, brightest meteor shower in living memory. There was no way in Hell Stiles was going to miss it. Scott was busy with Allison and Lydia was still pretending they weren't soul mates… more specifically, she was pretending she didn't know who he was. He knew that she really didn't, which bugged him even more. They had been in the same class all through elementary school and had at least one class together in middle and high school. She was going to be Valedictorian and he was in line to be Salutatorian, but she still didn't know his name. He was mostly over her, but there were still moments when the thoughts of her perfection crossed his mind and his heart hurt._

_A bottle of Jack Daniels he'd stolen from his father in hand, he trudged to his favorite clearing in the Beacon Hills Preserve. He took a swig from the bottle and stared up at the night sky, hoping to drown out a week's worth of stress. He didn't know how to even bring it up to his father and he already knew what Scott's answer would be and it wasn't one that he wanted._

_He was a good third of the way into the bottle when he heard footsteps. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"_

_"You're not my father, Derek," Stiles replied grumpily._

_"Stiles, what are you doing here?" Derek asked._

_"Number 7, man," Stiles said matter-of-factly, taking another swig. "Number 7."_

_Derek stood over him, clearly unamused. "You're drunk."_

_Stiles laughed for a second before realizing Derek didn't know about his list. "No man. 7 on my list of things to do before I die. You know, 15 graduate high school, 12 go skinny dipping… 5, get married in the same church as my parents. Number 42 is to befriend someone I don't like." He took another swig before looking back up at the scowling werewolf. "Which reminds me… Do you need a friend, Derek?"_

_Derek looked even less amused than he was before. "Go home, Stiles."_

_"Can't," Stiles replied apathetically, drinking down yet more whiskey._

_"Did you forget where you live?" Derek asked, pulling Stiles unceremoniously to his feet._

_"No, dumbass," Stiles growled. "Because I'm fucking wasted and I drove here. Do you know how bad it would look on my dad if I got a DUI at 16 years old?"_

_"I'll take you home," Derek offered._

_Stiles pulled his arm out of Derek's hand, walking away from him. "I don't need your help."_

_"Are you planning on walking home while drunk off your ass?"_

_"Why the fuck do you care?" Stiles demanded._

_"Because you've saved my life a couple of times," Derek replied, turning around and heading back the way he came. "But if you really want to walk the two hours-worth of walking that it will take to get home, more power to you. Just don't say I didn't try."_

_"Nobody asked you to, Derek!" Stiles shouted. "If I wanted to be home right now, don't you think I'd fucking be there! Home is the last place I want to be…"_

_Those words stopped Derek in his tracks. He turned around. "What's this really about? And keep in mind, I'll know if you're lying."_

_Stiles rolled his eyes. "It doesn't fucking matter. We're not friends, Derek. We barely tolerate each other for Scott's sake. If I'm not going to tell Scott or my dad, why would I tell you?"_

_"Because I know all too well how much pain holding secrets can cause," Derek told him. "And Scott doesn't care for me. You do."_

_Stiles wiped his eyes. "Jesus Christ… I save your life a few times and you get all sentimental about it."_

_Derek moved closer to him, putting a brotherly arm around his shoulders. "You don't have to tell me what's going on. But you should know that if you ever do want to talk about it, I'm here for you."_

* * *

Derek stepped out of the hospital room. Melissa and John were speaking in hushed voices. It didn't matter how hushed they were, Derek could still hear them. "The aphasia is getting worse. He can barely form sentences anymore, Melissa. When Claudia got this bad…"

"People can live for decades with this disorder," Melissa reminded him.

"I think you and I are beginning to define 'live' in different ways," Derek said, cutting in.

"There's always plan B," John pointed out.

"He doesn't want the Bite," Derek insisted. "Scott and I are agreed. He wants to stay human. We won't turn him."

John looked ashamed that the thought even crossed his mind. "We'll make sure he's comfortable," Melissa pointed out. "The three of us can agree that we love that kid dearly. In the final stages, he won't even realize what's going on."

"That doesn't make it better," Derek said softly.

"I know," Melissa said. "But _he_ won't be suffering."

"He still has more lucid days than not. Let's stop talking about him like he's already beyond our reach. He can't always express himself, but Stiles is still in there… and rather than mourning him while he's still alive, I'm going to spend all the time with him I can," Derek said, disgusted as he turned around and went back into the room, moving his chair closer to Stiles' bed. He crawled into the bed next to Stiles as he often did. Stiles seemed to like the comfort of Derek's arm being around him because he only had nightmares when Derek slept on the chair instead.

It thin rope Derek seemed to walk on. Each time he slept beside Stiles, he risked Stiles waking up next to someone he considered a stranger, yet he could hear how calm Stiles' heart and breath were as they lay together. For a little while, he could remember what it was like before the disease began to take hold of him.

The next morning, a nurse woke them. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hale. The doctor has ordered some blood tests."

"The amount of blood you take from him, I'm starting to wonder if you're a vampire," Derek joked as he crawled out of the bed. "How are his panels?"

"So far so good," she said. "Nothing to worry about."

Derek focused his hearing after asking his next question. "How much longer can we expect him to have 'good days'?"

"It's hard to say, really," she replied. "I've seen this go different ways. Sometimes they hang on for a long time… and sometimes it happens quickly. There's no way tell which route any patient might take. Just make the moments you have count."

Her heart remained steady. She drew the blood she needed and left as Stiles was waking up. "Hi," he said softly.

Derek smiled at him. "Hi."

"S—sleep well?" Stiles asked.

"Yeah," Derek replied. "You?"

Stiles squeezed his eyes shut. "I—I—I felt… you," he managed. Derek noticed his stutter was getting worse. He'd done the research and he knew that if the speech issues continued to get worse, soon Stiles would be unable to communicate at all.

Another nurse came in with Stiles' breakfast. "Good morning Mr. Stilinski and Mr. Hale," she said.

"G—good morning," Stiles managed.

She sat the tray down. "I'll be back in a bit to collect it," she told them before leaving.

Derek sat the tray on Stiles' lap. This morning Stiles had scrambled eggs, oatmeal, and fruit. Stiles picked up the fork and scooped some of the eggs onto it. As he brought it to his lips, a spasm of his hand sent the eggs flying. Derek could hear Stiles' heart begin to race and the tears of frustration started to leak from the corners of his eyes because he remembered when his mom couldn't feed herself. Stiles threw the plastic fork angrily onto the tray, burying his reddening face in his hands.

He hated this lack of independence and Derek could tell he was starting to lose the will to fight. "It's alright, Stiles," Derek assured him, picking up the fork and helping him to eat. Stiles cried throughout the meal and refused to eat more than half of it.

"Not h—hungry," he stammered, curling up on his side.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" Derek asked. "Maybe some fresh air would do you good."

Stiles nodded. Derek went to the nurse's station to let them know their plan. Upon returning to the room, he helped Stiles into a pair of sweatpants and tied the hospital gown more tightly, wanting to preserve his boyfriend's modesty.

It took several minutes for Stiles to finally get steady on his feet. He hung tightly to the pole connected to his IV. Derek helped support him as he transferred Stiles into the wheel chair. There was a nice park-like area behind the hospital. He knew Stiles enjoyed that area so he brought him out there.

Stiles loved the feeling of the sun on his skin. It was something he missed. "Scott?" Stiles asked.

"He'll be here later today," Derek promised.

"I m—m—miss h—h—h—h—him," Stiles said.

"I know you do," Derek said softly. He wanted to take Stiles' mind off of Scott so he tried to start conversation. "Your birthday is next week. What would you like?"

"Go h—home," Stiles replied.

"Your dad and I can talk to the doctor," Derek replied. "We can see if he'll give you a discharge for the day."

"No," Stiles replied as they reached the area beneath the oak tree that Stiles preferred to sit in. Derek locked the wheels and sat on the bench beside him. "Go h—home. And stay there."

"I'll do my best," Derek said.

Stiles reached a shaky hand over and took Derek's. "Kiss me," he said clearly. Derek smiled and leaned over, placing a chaste kiss on Stiles' cheek. When he pulled back, he saw that Stiles was crying again.

"What's wrong?" Derek asked.

"Kiss me," Stiles repeated. "Like you used t—to."

Though Stiles' lips were chapped and not as soft and supple as they once had been, Derek leaned over and kissed Stiles the way he wanted to be kissed. It was deep and passionate. When Derek finally pulled away, his eyes fluttered for a few moments before gazing into Stiles' brown eyes. "I love you," he said softly.

"Who are you?" Stiles asked him. The window of lucidity was gone. This time, it was Derek's turn to cry.

"I'm your boyfriend," Derek explained.

Stiles nodded. "Oh right…" he said. "You're Devon…"

"Derek, actually," he corrected. "My name's Derek."

* * *

**Author's Note:** This is just a taste of how this story is going to go. This story is going to be kind of a sad one. Please give me feedback on the chapter!


	2. Chapter 2

_Tick. Tock. Stiles glanced over to the bright red numbering that told him it was still only 12:43 in the morning. Mentally, he was exhausted, but every time he tried to go to sleep, his mind would begin to race. Realizing the futility of remaining in his bed all night, he wandered over to his computer, booting it up. He checked several of his favorite websites before opening the instant messenger application on his computer. Everyone he knew was listed as offline, except one person who instantly messaged him._

**dhale88**_: Shouldn't you be in bed right now?_

**betchacantsaymyname**_: Shouldn't you? Or are you too busy howling at the moon?  
_**dhale88**_: A howling at the moon joke aimed at a werewolf. That's original._

**betchacantsaymyname**_: It's funny. I can see you brooding even through IM._

**dhale88**_: I don't brood! I scowl. There's a difference._

**betchacantsaymyname**_: Yeah ok. Whatever helps you not sleep at night._

_Several minutes passed with no conversation between them as Stiles thumbed mindlessly through a textbook sitting on his desk. A noise from his computer startled him slightly and he looked back at the conversation window._

**dhale88**_: Does this have anything to do with you drinking yourself into oblivion the night of the meteor shower?_

**betchacantsaymyname**_: Even if it did, why would I tell you?_

**dhale88**_: Because you have circles under your eyes so dark someone could mistake you for a very pale, scrawny raccoon._

**betchacantsaymyname**_: So are you trying to diagnose me with insomnia or something?_

**dhale88**_: Not really_

**dhale88**_: but if the shoe fits…_

**betchacantsaymyname**_: well have you ever considered the fact that I have ADHD and don't always take my Adderall the way it's prescribed… and one of the side-effects of that drug is insomnia?_

**dhale88**_: actually… no._

**betchacantsaymyname**_: Okay then, Derek. Stop trying to parent me. I know you're trying to help or you think you're trying to help or whatever. But I don't need it._

**dhale88**_: I'd tell you to take a chill pill, but that'd be mildly inappropriate. _

**betchacantsaymyname**_: You're right. It would._

**dhale88**_: Try taking melatonin. Or warm milk. My mom would always do that for me._

**betchacantsaymyname: **_Thanks. I'll try that._

**dhale88**_: I'm going to sign off and get some sleep. Brooding and scowling can be exhausting._

**betchacantsaymyname**_: lol and thanks again, Derek. Sorry I was being kind of an ass._

**dhale88**_: apology accepted. Good night._

**betchacantsaymyname**_: good night!_

_Stiles closed the conversation window and turned the computer off again before heading into his bathroom to see if he might have some melatonin that he could use. He didn't. His father, however, did. Stiles tapped two tablets into his palm and put the bottle back before heading downstairs and pouring some milk into a pan and slowly heating it on the stove. He washed the small pills down with the milk and returned to his bed where he was able to accomplish a few hours of sleep before his alarm clock woke him up the next morning for school._

* * *

"How is he?" Scott asked as he barreled down the hallway. Derek was sitting on a bench outside the room.

"He's sleeping right now. But pretty soon, they'll be taking him for an MRI," Derek said.

"How are _you_ doing?" Scott couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Derek look so ragged. It was obvious he wasn't sleeping.

"As well as I can, I guess," Derek replied as he stood up to stretch. "He wants to go home for his birthday."

"I can talk to my mom about a day pass discharge," Scott suggested.

Shaking his head, Derek clarified. "He wants to be permanently discharged from the hospital. I think he's starting to give up."

Scott peered through the small window of Stiles' room door, watching as his best friend—his brother rested. "We could still do it, you know," Scott whispered. "Sometimes it's better to ask forgiveness than permission."

"John mentioned it, too," Derek replied. "But Stiles told us he didn't want to become a werewolf. Believe me… the thought crosses my mind, too."

"It's just… we could help him. We could _fix_ him and he knows that but he won't let us," tears formed in Scott's eyes and he struggled to blink them away.

"I know," Derek sighed. "But I don't think he'd even survive the bite at this point. He's gotten so weak. I just wish there was something we could do to give him hope again."

"Maybe he's already told us how," Scott pointed out.

Derek raised an eyebrow in curious confusion.

"Stiles has always hated hospitals. When he was little, he was here all the time to be with his mom… but he was here when she died. Since then, he's really associated hospitals with death. Maybe he wants us to bring him home so that he _can_ get better?" Scott suggested.

"But our wedding wasn't official and as his next of kin, we need to convince John of that," Derek said. "He wants Stiles as close as possible to medical care and I don't blame him."

"I'll talk to my mom. She'll be able to reason with him," Scott said. Derek smiled. For the first time in a while, he had hope that things might get better.

* * *

_Stiles had a love-hate relationship with school. On one hand, he recognized it as a necessary evil. That said, it had a terrible habit of getting in the way and taking up his time when he could spend it helping to stop _actual_ evil. He also wanted more of a front-row seat. He was tired of being Robin to Scott's Batman. It was _his_ plans that always saved their asses. And most of them were concocted while sitting in a classroom not paying an ounce of attention to the words coming out of the teacher's face._

_He thought about the reasons why Derek might be so insistent on trying to help and wondered if he might know something. He was thankful that the bell rang and he had a free period. He was feeling tired and decided to go to the Lacrosse bleachers to take a nap. The stands were hard and uncomfortable, but he didn't care. The moment his head rested on his backpack and his eyes were closed, he was out._

_He awoke to Scott shaking him. "Dude… you need to change for practice! Stiles! Wake up!"_

_Gasping for air, he looked around. "Shit! What time is it?"_

"_It's almost 4:30. Practice starts soon. You need to go change!" Scott repeated._

_Stiles shook his head. "I can't go to practice…"_

"_Why not?"_

"_Because I forgot to set an alarm… I slept through Coach's class. If I show up to practice, he'll think I purposely skipped…" Stiles said._

_Scott seemed confused. "What are you talking about?"_

"_I came out here to take a nap during my free period. I must have slept through the rest of the day," Stiles explained._

_Scott shook his head. "But you were in class. You actually answered three of Coach's questions correctly… that's why you don't have to do laps today."_

_Stiles laughed. "I must have really conked out and dreamt that I missed class. Sorry. I'll go change. See ya on the field." Stiles headed into the locker room before turning and heading to the parking lot. Pulling out his phone, he searched for one contact and called Derek. "Are you at your loft?" he asked the moment Derek answered._

"_Yeah. Why?" Derek asked._

"_I'm coming over," Stiles said._

"_Is everything okay?"_

"_I don't know… I just need someone I can bounce ideas off of…"_

"_Alright, I'll see you when you get here," Derek replied._

* * *

"Are you sure this is what he wants?" John asked Derek.

Derek nodded. "And I think it'll be what's best for him. Scott agrees."

"You and Scott also agree on not doing the thing that will save his life," John said coldly. "So forgive me if I'm not thrilled by the idea of anything you two agree on."

"He doesn't want it," Derek replied. He struggled to do so, but he managed to make sure his voice held no edge. He understood John's frustration.

"Half the time he doesn't know what he wants anymore," John said. "I'd rather him live as a werewolf than watch him die like I had to watched his mother die."

"But would you want him to live hating all of us for what we did to him?" Derek asked. "The thought crosses my mind every single day. The thing that prevents me is knowing that if I did it, it would be a betrayal that Stiles would never forgive me for."

John began to cry. Derek knew it would happen eventually. He expected the Sheriff would only be able to maintain his composure in public for so long. He tried to comfort the man who should have become his father-in-law by hugging him. "I just don't know why he'd want me to go through this again," John sobbed into Derek's shoulder.

* * *

_Derek was doing push-ups on the floor of his loft as Stiles slid the door open. Immediately he got to his feet. "You were speeding," he said with a smirk. There was no witty comeback, just a confused glance. Immediately Derek regretted the joke he made. "Are you alright?"_

"_I don't know," Stiles replied honestly. "I really don't know."_

"_You look like you haven't slept in days," Derek pointed out, helping Stiles to the couch._

"_I feel like I haven't… but I remember falling asleep. I'm not sure what's happening," Stiles replied. After a few moments of silence, Stiles looked up from his hands and stared into the Alpha's eyes. "I'm scared, Derek."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_I'm missing time…" Stiles replied. "I remember going out to the bleachers during my free period to take a nap. I didn't wake up until Scott woke me up around 4:30. But he says I attended my other classes that day. He said I was in Coach's class and that I answered questions correctly. But I _know_ that I didn't."_

"_Maybe you're so tired you just don't remember," Derek suggested. "Insomnia can have strange side-effects."_

_Stiles shook his head. "I've gone a while without sleep before. This isn't new to me. But this is the first time I've ever done something that I don't remember doing."_

_Derek could tell how legitimately worried Stiles was and decided to try and help. "How about you crash here for the night. I'll watch over you and make sure you don't sleep walk or something."_

"_Won't that be weird, though?" Stiles asked. "I mean you and I have only just started interacting with one another in a civilized manner."_

"_We'll consider it an opportunity to get to know one another better," Derek replied. "For Scott's sake."_

"_Can you help me figure out what's going on with me?" Stiles asked._

_Derek slowly nodded. "Yeah, I'll help you."_

_Stiles grinned. "Alright… but you should know… if we're going to be working together on this, you're going to have to resist the urge to fall in love with me."_

_Derek's eyes raked across Stiles in a way that left the young human feeling vulnerable, intimidated, and slightly insulted. "Trust me… that's not going to be a problem."_

"_What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Stiles asked indignantly._

"_It means you're tired and you need to get some rest," Derek replied dismissively. "Good night."_

* * *

"You understand that if I authorize this, you're forfeiting his bed in the hospital and there's no guarantee that we'll be able to re-admit him, right?" the social worker asked John.

"He's not getting any better here… he might as well be somewhere comfortable," John replied.

"We can find him room in a palliative care facility," she suggested.

"No!" Derek interjected. "We're not giving up on him!"

"Mr. Hale, palliative care doesn't constitute 'giving up.' It's just a matter of treating symptoms to provide a higher quality of life," she said.

"I know what palliative care means." Derek's voice held an icy coldness that took even John by surprise. "It's not fucking happening. He's suffering from dementia. He's not on his death bed."

"With all due respect, Mr. Hale, it's Sheriff Stilinski's call," the social worker said.

"With all due respect, ma'am," John replied. "I was there on the day they exchanged rings and vows. He has just as much say, if not more than I do."

"And I've told you before," the social worker replied. "There was nothing about that ceremony that was legally binding. My hands are tied, unfortunately. The authorization has to come from you, Sheriff."

"And I've already authorized it. I just need you to put the paperwork through," John said. The social worker nodded and began typing feverishly.

A few hours later, Stiles was leaning against Derek's chest in the back seat of John's car. A blissful smile parted his lips. "Home?" Stiles asked as they pulled into the driveway.

"Yeah, we're home," Derek replied. "Happy birthday, Stiles."

"M-my birthday isn't for a few days," he pointed out.

"I know," Derek said. "But I know you hate hospitals and you really wanted this."

"I love you, Derek," he said.

Derek could tell that Stiles' stutter was already getting better. He knew he'd made the right decision.

Stiles was playing absentmindedly with the silver ring on Derek's finger. "Why don't I have mine anymore?" he asked.

"You needed too many MRI scans," Derek replied. "So you gave it to me to keep safe."

"Is it s-safe?" Stiles asked.

"I haven't taken it off since the moment you gave it to me," Derek replied, pulling his hand out of Stiles' so he could unfasten the necklace he kept beneath his shirt. A small silver ring dangled from a small chain. He let the ring fall into his palm before sliding it back onto Stiles' finger for the first time in six months. "I always thought it looked so much better on you."

* * *

_The loud screaming jolted Derek from his sleep. Stiles was flailing around. Immediately Derek was at his side, restraining him, afraid he'd hurt himself somehow. "Stiles you're alright… calm down," he said as Stiles fought against him, still trying to catch his bearings._

_When he finally stopped, he looked up at Derek, tears streaming his face. "What happened?"_

_Derek shrugged, slowly letting Stiles go. "You were asleep… then you started screaming worse than a fucking banshee… which is saying something, considering we both know one."_

"_But I was here the entire time?" Stiles asked._

"_If you'd have left, I would have known," Derek replied, sitting next to him. "Do you need some water or something?"_

"_Or something," Stiles muttered. "Do you have anything stronger?"_

"_A whole cabinet full," Derek said. "But you're too young."_

"_Really? You choose now to draw a strong moral line about what you will and will not let teenagers do?" Stiles replied._

"_And what's that supposed to mean?"_

"_Where was this morality when you went around turning every wayward problem child in Beacon Hills," he said._

_Derek's nostrils flared. He reached out grabbing Stiles' arm, bringing it close to his mouth. "Are you saying you want me to cure your nightmares by making you into the thing that gives kids nightmares?"_

_His heart raced as he imagined Derek's teeth piercing his skin, biting him… turning him… "No," he said softly._

"_I've made bad decisions," Derek said. "But I gave each of them a choice. They knew the risks. You know the risks. So don't joke about something like that."_

"_I'm sorry," Stiles replied. He didn't know why he even said it in the first place. He didn't really think that about Derek, but it just came out. He stood there, hoping Derek would accept his apology, though he knew he didn't deserve Derek's forgiveness._

"_You fucking should be," Derek growled, dropping Stiles arm and walking away from him, leaving Stiles to curl back up on the couch and cry himself back to sleep._

* * *

Derek held Stiles in his arms, carrying him into the house. "I never really got to do this when we had our ceremony," he chuckled.

Stiles smiled weakly up at him. "You will b-be able to sleep beside me tonight w-without the n-nurses you wake up," he said. Immediately the smile faded as he realized that the end of the sentence came out wrong.

Derek could smell the tears that were beginning to form. As he gingerly laid Stiles in his bed, he leaned down and kissed him. "You don't have to get frustrated. I know what you mean. I'll always know what you mean."

"D-don't make promises you can't k-keep," Stiles warned.

"I never do," Derek replied, wiping the tear from the corner of Stiles' eyes.

"I'm really t-tired," Stiles mumbled. "Can we w-walk tomorrow?"

Derek nodded. "We can walk as far and as long as you want."

Stiles gave a weak attempt at a grin before rolling onto his side. Derek watched him sleep for a bit before he heard John appear in the doorway. "When he was first born, I watched him sleep every night," he said. "He was always such a hyperactive little shit. He never stopped moving even when he was dead to the world. And now… I feel like I'm watching someone else's kid… he's always so still now."

Derek got up and turned to John, whose expression was unreadable. "We're doing the right thing…" He hoped he said it with enough conviction to convince John that he was sure they had.

"Can you tell me something… man to man?" John asked. After Derek gave a gentle nod, John took a deep breath. "Every time he woke up unclear of who you are, you didn't say 'husband'. Do you regret exchanging vows?"

Though he was taken aback by the question, Derek shook his head. "I'll never regret that. It's just… whenever he woke up like that, there was a chance that he would reject anything I told him. Boyfriend is a softer truth than husband. But every time I said it, it killed me."

"And why didn't you marry him… for real?" John asked.

He didn't understand why John was asking, but the two of them needed to keep communication open if they were going to now live under the same roof in their attempts to help Stiles. "Because my kind… werewolves have different rules we live by. Betas can pretty much do what they want so long as the Alpha agrees. But an Alpha is supposed to take another werewolf as their Mate. If I were to legally marry him, there would be other Alphas who would expect me to turn him."

"And he doesn't want to be turned," John said softly.

"There are those who would understand our situation… there are those who would think me cruel, or even stupid, for not just doing it," Derek replied. "And then there are those who would do what it took to force my hand… who have an idea of werewolf purity. He is already in so much danger from the things going on inside his mind."

"Are you hungry?" John asked.

"Yeah."

"Come downstairs. I'll cook us something," the sheriff replied.

Silence passed between them as John cooked, and even as they ate. Both of them nursed a beer before John finally broke the quiet. "You've been so good with him. And you've kept your promise to keep him human. But I'm telling you right now… you need to break it."

"I won't do that, John. I'm sorry," Derek replied. "I won't betray him like that."

"Fine," John said. His voice was low and calm. "But when he dies from this… from _your_ inaction, I will make sure that when I bury my son—the only thing I have left that I truly care about—that I will have already put his murderer in the ground." He stood up from the table and threw his plate across the room, sending it shattering against the wall.

"Don't do this, John," Derek begged. "The bite has consequences. There's no guarantee you survive it… believe me I learned that lesson the hard way. He's so weak…"

"HE'S MY SON!" John roared. "He's all I have. You can save his life! If you don't, that's murder. And while it would be great retribution to let you live the rest of your life knowing what you did to him, I won't be able to sleep at night knowing that you got to live when he didn't."

"Biting Stiles doesn't bring back your wife!" Derek yelled back, getting to his feet.

"It saves the last bit of her left alive," John replied. "When I look at him, I see her. I always have… and now more than ever. You don't know how this ends. I do and it is proof that there is no God that I have to watch him go through it knowing that he doesn't have to… and the person who swore before me and God to love and protect him…"

"I _am_ protecting him, John!" Derek said. "And I'm starting to think I might need to protect him from you."

"Are you threatening me?" John asked, stepping close to Derek who refused to back down.

"Believe me," Derek replied, staring into the Sheriff's eyes. "If I think I need to step in to protect him… I won't need to threaten you. Werewolves don't play baseball. You don't get three strikes."

John didn't even blink. Neither of them said a word. Both knew they had reached an impasse. It was just a matter of whose will would win out.

* * *

**Author's Note: **So there's the second chapter! I hope it wasn't as traumatizing as the first... but the next one will likely be pretty sad. Let me know what you think! That includes theories! Feel free to follow/message me on Tumblr (forevermyalphaDOTtumblrDOTcom) and Twitter ( orioniswatching). I love reader feedback.


	3. Chapter 3

_Stiles was averaging six hours of sleep per week. On the off chance he was able to sleep, it wasn't restful and it was haunted by nightmares that sent his father running to his room. There were times he didn't know whether or not he was dreaming. There were times when he would simply be somewhere he had no recollection of going to._

_As he woke up, surrounded by leaves and trees, he pulled his limbs close to himself. He was cold. It was unspeakably cold outside. All he was wearing was a loose-fitting tee-shirt and some pajama pants. His cell phone was in his hand, but there wasn't much battery life left. He wasn't sure who to call. Should he call Scott and Derek who could track him by scent? Should he call his father, who would likely set the entire police force of Beacon Hills to the task of finding him? Should he try to find his way home on his own?_

_And the more important question faced him… was any of this actually real? Would he wake up to find himself in his bed at home?_

_He scrolled through his contacts and his fingers hit the first one he came to that might provide help._

"_Hello?" the voice came on the other side._

* * *

Derek scarcely moved from Stiles' side. He wasn't sure he could trust Stiles to be alone with John. He feared that if he left Stiles for too long, John might have a different Alpha come in to change him.

Stiles quickly picked up on the tension mounting between his father and his love. "Stop f-fighting," he said one day as Derek wheeled him down the street.

"We're not fighting," Derek replied. "You have to speak to someone to fight with them."

"You know wh-what I mean!"

Derek knelt beside Stiles. "Your father loves you. He's trying to find a way to save your life. But you've told me and Scott that you don't want the Bite. And I don't want you to die either. Especially since I know that there's a strong possibility the Bite will save your life."

"No," Stiles replied forcefully. "I don't w-want it."

Derek worked hard to suppress the tears that were forming in his eyes. He hoped and he truly prayed that Stiles would change his mind. He nodded. "Then I'll respect your decision… but Stiles… I need to know why."

"I c-can't tell you yet," Stiles replied.

Shaking his head, Derek whimpered, "That's not good enough. I've stood by you… and I've trusted you implicitly for three years… and I've been defending your decision to your father… but I need to know why. Help me understand so I know why I'm making an enemy out of your father… why won't you take the Bite?"

Stiles looked down, his eyes searching Derek's. It hurt him to see his husband in so much pain, but he couldn't tell Derek his reasoning just yet. "I w-will tell you," Stiles promised. "Eventually." Derek gripped Stiles' sweatpants and silently cried into his lap. Stiles stroked his hair in an attempt to soothe him. It unnerved him to see Derek like this. He was always so calm and collected. He was the pillar on which Stiles knew he could lean, and so often had these past few years. "D-don't cry, Derek…" Stiles begged. "Please…"

Derek wiped his eyes and stood up. "I'm sorry," he said. "I just had a moment of weakness."

"Not weak-weakness," Stiles corrected. "Strength."

* * *

"_I don't know where I am," Stiles whimpered. "I'm scared, Derek…"_

_Derek froze. His mind began to race. "Look around you," he said., feigning complete calmness. "Tell me what you see."_

"_It's too dark," Stiles replied. His voice was weak and full of terror. "I can't see anything… I know I'm in the woods… but that's it… I think I hear coyotes, Derek… please…" Derek's heart was breaking as he heard his friend speak. He could hear Stiles' teeth chattering in the cold. "I don't want to die…"_

"_You won't," Derek vowed. "I'll find you. But I need to call for some help. To do that, I need to hang up with you. I'll call you back as soon as I can, alright?"_

"_No, Derek!" Stiles yelped. "Please don't hang up on me!"_

"_It will be just a few moments, I promise, Stiles! I just need to call Scott then I'll call you right back." He quickly disconnected, knowing that another plea from Stiles would shake his resolve. Stiles was the first person to treat him as a human… as an equal since Laura died. Stiles was his best friend. His only friend, really. He quickly tapped Scott's number and held the phone to his ear again. "Stiles is missing, I think he's somewhere in the Preserve. Get the Sheriff and meet me there. I don't think he'll last long."_

_He hung up and immediately dialed Stiles back. "Derek?"_

"_See, I told you it'd only be a few moments," Derek replied as he pulled on his jacket and ran out the door to his loft, not even bothering to lock it. He hopped in his car and sped out of the garage, not even touching the brake until he was pulling up to the sign that said "Beacon Hills Preserve." He didn't have time to wait for Scott. He was too busy trying to keep Stiles calm. "Cover your feet with leaves. It'll help protect them from frostbite… and try to keep your fingers in your armpits, it'll keep them warm. I'm coming, Stiles… I swear."_

_He could hear Stiles' teeth chattering. "My phone is going to die…"_

"_It's alright," Derek assured him. "I'm in the preserve… and I've got your scent."_

_He began to run as the line went dead, following the scent. His ears could pick up the sounds of the night for miles. He could hear the Sheriff and Scott pulling up, already a league behind him. He stopped, sniffing the air. Stiles' scent was much stronger. He had to be within earshot. "STILES!" Derek called out. "CAN YOU HEAR ME?"_

"_Over here!" came the weak voice in reply. Derek's head shot in the direction of the cry. His eyes glowed bright red, allowing him to see more easily in the pitch black of the wood. He rushed to the young human, throwing off his thick, warm jacket and wrapping Stiles' shivering torso into it and picking him up._

"_I've got you now. You'll be fine," Derek assured him, carrying him back to the cars so that he could be taken to the hospital._

* * *

Everyone gathered around Stiles' bed. A folded blanket helped keep his legs warm as a mountain of beautifully wrapped presents surrounded him.

Scott bought a chair that would allow him to descend the stairs without having to be carried. Danny designed a lacrosse version of the Madden video game. Allison got his baseball bat autographed by his favorite Major League player. When all but one had been opened, Derek sat on the bed. The wrapping was elegant, as was the handwriting on the card. Stiles became teary-eyed as he read it.

Carefully, he removed the wrapping, revealing a beautiful hand-made picture frame containing a collage of photos, most of them were of him and Derek performing items on his list. Several of them were just Derek. The teary eyes became full-blown sobs as Stiles realized he didn't remember doing any of these things with Derek. But as his eyes studied each one, he realized that most of his list had been accomplished. He looked up from the frame to see that all of his friends were crying too. "I'm sorry, you guys… this is probably the most depressing birthday party you've ever been to," Stiles said wiping his eyes. A chorus of "It's fine" echoed in the room. Stiles then leaned forward, wanting Derek to kiss him. The Alpha leaned forward, granting that wish.

Danny leaned over toward Lydia. "I thought that was his cousin, Miguel…"

Lydia turned her head, narrowing her eyes. "Why do you think we've been calling him 'Derek' this whole time?"

"I thought it was a nickname or something…" Danny admitted. "So just so we're clear… Stiles isn't in an incestuous relationship with his cousin?"

Scott joined in with Lydia in giving Danny a dumb-founded look.

* * *

_The machine made bizarre whirring and banging noises as Stiles worked very hard to remain still. He didn't mind being in a tight space, but the act of having to stay so perfectly still made him feel as though he was suffocating. Occasionally, a man's voice would tell him to do something. Usually, it was identifying a series of colors or shapes. The panicked feeling only went away when the voice announced, "Alright Mr. Stilinski, the test is over." The table slid out of the machine and Stiles stood up. His father met him in the room. The look on his face told Stiles everything he needed to know. He could feel the tears beginning to well in his eyes._

"_There are still a few more tests we can perform. I'd like to get some blood work done and do a genetic test," the doctor added. Stiles appreciated his attempt at comforting them and consented to the extra testing, though he knew they'd likely all yield the same result. He had inherited Frontotemporal Dementia from his mom._

"_The MRI just showed beginning stages, Stiles," John told him. "There are still things we can do to help slow it down. We caught it early."_

"_I'm scared, dad," Stiles said. He couldn't even look at his father. He just stared straight ahead, feeling completely numb. There were so many things he wouldn't get to accomplish. His list became even more imperative, but he still had to get through his last two years of high school before he could complete most of it… and who even knew if he'd graduate before the symptoms became too bad._

_He decided, however, not to tell anyone… not yet. He swore his father to secrecy. Not even Scott and Melissa could know._

_As he waited on the blood and genetics tests to come back, he spent more time with Derek. He spent most of his time with Derek, actually. Scott was beginning to get suspicious of the amount of time he spent in Derek's loft. _

_Derek was really smart, Stiles discovered. He attended NYU when he was in New York with Laura. He had degrees in Linguistics and Biology. He hated Mary Shelley's Frankenstein and loved the way Ernest Hemingway's prose flowed. He was good at math. "It's a bunch of symbols we assign arbitrary definitions to and rearrange to create new meaning… it's a language," he explained to an open-jawed Stiles._

"_I'm gonna start calling you Wonder Wolf," Stiles said, in complete awe of Derek's intellect._

"_Not if you value your life you won't," Derek replied._

"_I wish high school interested me more than it does… maybe if I got better grades I might have a shot with Lydia," he surmised. As it stood, he had no hope of ever getting with Lydia or anyone else, for that matter. __"Oh my god," he said as the reality of it hit him. "I'm going to die as a virgin..."__"Stiles... you're only 17. You have plenty of time..." Derek replied.__"But what if I don't, Derek?" Stiles replied. "Things happen... I could walk out of this loft and get struck by a car and my headstone is going to say 'Here lies Stiles... He died as he lived... a total virgin!'"__Derek summoned his courage, unsure if this was necessarily the right time to make a move. "What if you didn't?"__Stiles rolled his eyes. "Yeah... cut to the line of people clamoring to get me into bed. I'm not Scott... I can't just tilt my head and show off a crooked jaw that makes the ladies swoon!"_

_Derek slowly approached, allowing his thumb to trace Stiles' incredibly un-crooked jaw. "You don't have to," he said. "You spend your time comparing yourself to him... but do you ever stop and think that you could just be you and perfectly acceptable?"__Stiles' eyes searched Derek's. He stepped backwards. "Stop making fun of me," he said. "I don't need sassy werewolf right now, Derek... I need a friend. And for someone to think highly enough of me to want to have sex with me! For Christ's sake, I've never even been kissed!"_

_Again, Derek closed the distance between them. He pressed his lips to Stiles' and hoped that he hadn't stepped over a line. To his relief, Stiles melted into it and Derek felt his lips part slightly. He took it as invitation to deepen the kiss, tasting Stiles for the first time. He tasted just like Derek imagined he would. When he finally pulled away, he waited for a reaction. Stiles simply smiled, much to his relief. "How was that for a first kiss?" Derek asked._

"_Not bad," Stiles replied. "Though I never imagined that my first kiss would come from a grumpy werewolf friend…"_

_Derek smiled and let his lips brush Stiles' again. "How about a grumpy werewolf boyfriend?"_

_Stiles grinned and stole one more kiss. "I think I'd be okay with that."_

* * *

The warm water soothed Stiles' muscles as he leaned against Derek's chest. The thing he loved most about being home again was that he got to bathe with Derek. It was intimate and beautiful even if it wasn't sexual. Stiles really just relished the sensation of Derek's powerful arms around him, and the skin-to-skin contact that made him feel like a person… not a patient.

Derek rubbed the silky body wash along the contours of his husband's skin, nibbling on his ears as Stiles let out little giggles that made Derek's heart soar. He remembered the last time he heard Stiles laugh. It was years ago. He was glad he moved Stiles home. He was doing so much better. His muscle control had improved and the tremors in his arms were only slight. His ability to talk was also much better with only a mild stutter when he got excited.

And although he'd never voice it, the fear was there in the back of his mind that this was merely a surge… one last hurrah before Stiles descended past the point of no return and beyond his reach forever.

And as he rinsed the soap off of Stiles' pale skin, he saw Stiles gazing up at him, seemingly awestruck. "What?" he asked.

"I missed this," Stiles replied. "I missed you holding me."

"I held you every night you were in the hospital," Derek replied. "You just didn't always know it."

"It's easier to be a couple here," Stiles pointed out.

"It's a little awkward," Derek admitted. "Your dad is downstairs and he's not my biggest fan right now…"

"When he finally understands why, he'll for-forgive you," Stiles said. "He was always in your corner."

* * *

_The liquor cabinet was getting more barren. Stiles was positive that his dad was drinking again. It wasn't like he blamed him, though. Both the blood tests and the genetic test came back proving he really _did_ inherit the disease from his mother. He just wished that his dad would hold it together until he was too far gone to see or understand what was happening. Stiles knew it would be harder to fight if he saw his father giving up so early._

_His phone vibrated. It was his dad, texting him to say he would be home soon. Stiles smiled because he was just putting the finishing touches on his mom's recipe for pierogi, his father's favorite comfort food. He knew the recipe by heart, having watched his mom make it often when he was young. When John walked through the door, the aroma greeted him and instantly, the stress of the day had vanished._

_They ate in relative silence, though John did speak up to compliment his son on a job well done. "Do you have any plans this weekend?" he asked as they washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen together._

"_I was going to hang out with Derek," Stiles replied._

_John sat the cleaning rag down. "It's not right what you're doing to that boy, Stiles," he said in the tone Stiles recognized as his stern father voice. "You need to end it before anyone gets hurt."_

_Stiles nodded, absent-mindedly running the sponge across the countertop. "I love him, Dad…"_

"_I understand," John replied. "And that's why you should set him free. He deserves at least that, don't you think?"_

"_He deserves everything," Stiles replied. "I've never felt this way about anyone before… and I love the way he makes me feel. I don't want that to end… That's selfish though, isn't it?"_

_John dropped the rag into the sink and pulled his son close. He was anticipating the first break-down. His son was always so strong, but what was happening to him wasn't fair and he deserved to be angry and frustrated by the situation. Stiles cried into his dad's chest, finally allowing himself to feel the emotions he'd been keeping at bay since the doctor gave them the test results._

_John stood there, holding his son in the same place he held his wife when the reality of it all hit her for the first time. He choked back his own tears. This wasn't his turn to be emotional. He needed to be strong so his son could have his moment of vulnerability._

_Stiles decided to do it the next day. It was only fair. He skipped school, telling Derek to meet him. The phone vibrated in his hand. Derek's name and picture popped up on the screen. He answered it. "I'm here… where are you," Derek's voice came over the line._

"_I'm in my jeep. Look to your left," Stiles replied. He was parked far away, tucked behind a thicket of shrubs that hid him well._

_Derek hung up and walked over as Stiles prepared himself to do it. Within moments, Derek was at the passenger door. Reaching over, Stiles opened his door and stepped gingerly out of the jeep, but left the door open in case he needed a fast get-away. "So what did the doctors say?" Derek asked._

"_That's not why I wanted to talk to you," Stiles replied. His voice was low. It was taking every ounce of strength he had to keep it strong and forceful. He willed his eyes to go anywhere but Derek because if he saw the hurt on Derek's face, he knew he wouldn't be able to do it and he knew that was selfish. "I can't do this," he said finally after several minutes of silence passed between them._

"_What do you mean?" Derek asked. _

"_I mean I can't do this… us… be your boyfriend. I thought I could, but I can't. So I've got to end it," Stiles said. He could feel the tears threatening to spill from his eyes as a lump formed in his throat._

_Derek was dumbfounded. "Did I do something wrong?"_

_Stiles shook his head. "No. I just… making it work with you is going to be tough… and I don't want to put that much effort into it. I'm giving up on us before things get too involved."_

"_But why?" Derek demanded. He sniffled slightly, making the first indication to Stiles that he was crying. Stiles' resolve was weakening._

_His method wasn't working, so he tried to be harsh. "Because I just don't want to be with you, Derek! Jesus Christ! Are you so masochistic that you're going to stand here and prolong a breakup! We've only been dating for a little while… I'm seventeen… you're 24! Grow the fuck up and act like it!"_

"_Fine," Derek said. In his peripheral vision, Stiles saw him shift slightly on his feet. "Tell me you don't love me and I'll get back in my car and we can pretend we never even met."_

_Stiles finally allowed himself to look at the man standing across from him. "I…" he began. He couldn't do it._

"_Come on…" Derek goaded. "You brought me all the way out here to dump me, so at least be man enough to look me in the eyes and let me go. Say something! Tell me you don't love me!"_

"_You'll know I'm fucking lying!" Stiles yelled back, the tears flowing steadily out of his eyes. "I'm giving up on you because I love you, Derek. This is probably the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. You're perfect… Your smart, you're kind, you love me even though I'm just a scrawny little spaz… and the only solace I get from this is knowing that one day I won't remember what it felt like to love you… and I'll forget how much it hurt to let you go."_

"_So it __**is**__ what your mom had," Derek whispered._

_Stiles nodded._

"_Why would I abandon you during this?" Derek asked, moving around the jeep to wrap Stiles tightly in his arms._

"_It isn't abandonment if I push you away, Derek," Stiles replied, snaking out of his grasp. "I can't ask you to go through this with me. I can't ask you to watch as I slowly lose any ability to function normally… when I forget you… my dad… Scott… and everyone I love." He shook his head as he sobbed. "You don't deserve that. I won't ask you to go through that."_

"_Then don't," Derek said softly.. "But don't ask me to walk away from you just because this might end up being painful."_

"_Derek… I'm going to die from this!" Stiles shouted back. "It could be months… it could be years. We don't know… but this is going to kill me. Let me die knowing I was able to at least do right by you…"_

"_We all die, Stiles. Every single one of us," Derek said softly. "Which is why we should hold on to the good things we have while we have them."_

"_You don't know what it's like to watch someone go through this," Stiles said. "My mom didn't even know who I was the last few months of her life. She was afraid of my dad. There is going to come a day when I look into your eyes and I see a complete stranger… and when that happens…"_

"_I'll remind you who I am," Derek replied, pulling him close again._

"_And when I don't even know who I am?"_

"_I'll remind you of that too… you're the scrawny little spaz I fell in love with," Derek replied. "And then we'll go from there."_

* * *

**Author's Note**: Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought of this chapter. What is Stiles' reason for not wanting the Bite? You'll find out soon. Also, sorry it took so long... I went through a little bit of writer's block from graduation... but now I'm back... and I'll be updating more frequently!


	4. Chapter 4

"_So when is he going to come over for dinner?" John asked as Stiles shoveled whole spoon-fuls of cereal into his mouth. "Have you two even had sex?"_

_Cereal blasted out of Stiles mouth, littering the table and floor around him. "Dad! Come on!"_

_John smirked as he brought his coffee cup to his lips. "Well, have you?"_

"_No!" Stiles replied emphatically. "No we haven't!"_

"_Why not?"_

_Stiles froze. "You're alright with us having sex?"_

_John's smirk erupted into a full laugh. "Of course I am… You're a hormonal boy… Derek's a hormonal boy… man… How old is he?"_

"_Older than he looks…"_

"_But my point is…I know what it's like to be your age. I had sex!" Gesturing at his son with his hand, John added, "Obviously."_

_Stiles glanced over at the stove. "Oh look… I've gotta go. This chat was great, Dad… let's never talk about this again?"_

_John moved to block Stiles' path. "Son, I'm serious. I'll be working the night shift this weekend. If you want, Derek can come over and stay the night. And you two can… you know… do it."_

_Stiles turned a shade of crimson John had never before seen as he brushed past him and out the door, quickly starting his Jeep and driving off. But as he drove the familiar path to that prison they called an educational institution, Stiles decided he would text Derek as soon as he got there._

_It turned out that he didn't need to text Derek because as he pulled into the spot, Derek's Camaro was already sitting there, the sexy werewolf leaning against it. As Stiles got out of his car, he grinned. "You know you graduated from here already, don't you?"_

_Derek chuckled. "I missed you… I wanted to get to see you before school stole you for the day."_

_Resting his hands on Derek's strong chest, Stiles kissed his boyfriend's cheek. "You're gonna lose werewolf street cred if you keep talking like that."_

"_Don't worry about me," Derek said. "I'm the Alpha, remember?"_

_Stiles felt knots turning in his stomach at the sensation of Derek's arms around him. He'd only ever felt this way before around Lydia. "So my dad is going to be working the night shift this weekend… he said you could come over and stay the night…"_

"_Alright… I'll be over around 7:00 on Friday," Derek said. "Now you need to get to class. If your grades slip, your dad might revoke my overnight privileges."_

"_Good looking, smart, and you're concerned about my education… I think you just hit the trifecta of what my dad wants in my romantic partner…" Stiles chuckled, letting his lips graze Derek's scruffy cheek, sending shivers of anticipation through his body again. He wasn't sure how he was going to wait until Friday night, even though it was only two days away._

_They were the slowest two days Stiles had ever had the displeasure of enduring. However when Derek showed up at his house, promptly at 7:00, the knots and butterflies in Stiles' stomach seemed to multiply with each passing second. He was somewhat of a one-hit wonder when it came to cooking, so his Pierogi dish was ready for them to eat._

_This, of course, wasn't the first time Derek had ever been to Stiles' house. It was, however, the first time he'd been there as Stiles' boyfriend. He could tell Stiles was anxious as he closed the door behind them and motioned to the kitchen. He grabbed his boyfriend's hand and pulled him close. "You don't need to be nervous, Stiles. We aren't going to do anything you're not ready to do."_

"_I know," Stiles replied. "It's just… you're my first… well… anything. I'm just kind of… I don't know."_

_Seeing Stiles so flustered was endearing. Derek smiled and kissed him. "Then we'll take it all very slowly," he said as their lips parted. "But let's start with dinner. It smells great."_

"_Thanks," Stiles said from behind a sheepish smile. He was always so full of words and ready to ramble on about anything, but Derek's kisses had a way of rendering him completely speechless._

_They ate together and Derek helped him clean up the kitchen before they headed up to Stiles' bedroom. Stiles awkwardly sat next to Derek. His lips found their way to Derek's neck, his hands unsure where to go. Derek's palm snaked its way up Stiles' abdomen, slowly pushing him back as he climbed up and straddled his young human lover._

_Stiles' pulse thundered loudly in Derek's ears as they continued. Stiles started pulling up on Derek's shirt, signaling he wanted to go further so Derek paused the kisses to help get them both out of their shirts._

_Stiles suddenly felt self-conscious as he saw the large muscular frame of his boyfriend glistening in the light coming from his lamp. He could see every muscle beneath Derek's skin. He giggled as Derek's scruff tickled his neck as Derek moved along his jawline and down to his shoulder with his kisses. _

_And though he was a powerful Alpha, even he needed to obey Nature's call. He climbed off Stiles and quickly excused himself to the bathroom._

_Stiles realized where this was headed when Derek came back. And while he was enthralled by the idea of losing his virginity to Derek, he was also terrified. He had no idea what he was doing and was scared Derek would lose interest in him for his lack of experience._

_As Derek rounded the corner into the room, he saw that Stiles was completely under the covers, protected by a pillow fort. He smiled and climbed back into the bed. Stiles heart began pounding again. "Stiles?"_

"_Yeah," came the muffled voice from beneath the covers._

"_Are you alright?"_

"_Not really," he replied._

"_Do you want to talk about it?"_

"_I'm scared," Stiles said, pushing the covers down. "I've never done this before… and I don't really know what to do. What if I make a mistake or something?"_

"_Remember what I said," Derek replied. "We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with."_

"_What if I'm not comfortable doing… that… for a while?"_

"_Then we won't have sex for a while," Derek said simply. "I want this to be as good for you as it is for me."_

"_This is good for you?" Stiles seemed almost perplexed by that thought. "Half the time I'm just copying you..."_

"_Then I must be really good at this," Derek teased._

"_You are," Stiles replied. "But keep in mind… I don't have anyone to compare this to."_

"_So you won't hate me if we just cuddle tonight instead?"_

"_Of course not," Derek replied, moving the pillows that acted as a barrier between them. Stiles climbed on top of the covers and scooted closer to Derek. He tensed as he felt Derek's large erection against his back. "Sorry…" Derek muttered. "It will go away eventually…"_

* * *

It had been a while since had actually enjoyed a shower. Normally, he was quickly washing in an effort to get right back to Stiles' side. Today, he was quickly washing because Stiles was waiting on him. They were going to the movies. Stiles first suggested the zoo, but after Derek pointed out that most animals went berserk in his presence, they decided that perhaps they should do something else.

But as he pulled on his clothes, he realized something was wrong. He could hear car horns and crying. Stiles was crying. He bolted out the door to find Stiles in the middle of the road, cars speeding past him, trying not to hit him. He looked scared and he was one inattentive driver away from being struck and killed. Running out into the road, Derek's entire focus was on saving Stiles. He was so focused on that task that he was nearly struck, himself. However, he was easily able to scoop up Stiles' thin frame and bring him back to the porch as the frail human struggled the entire time, insisting that Derek let him go.

Battering his fist against Derek's strong chest, Stiles was outraged. "I don't need saving!" he yelled. "I just want my mom!"

"Stiles…" Derek breathed, setting him down on his feet.

"How d-do you know my name? What were you doing in my h-house?" The barrage of questions seemed unending. This wasn't the first time Derek had dealt with a wild, angry, and confused Stiles. Unfortunately, that didn't make it any easier.

"Just calm down," Derek urged. He felt the agonizing daggers of despair in his chest as he continued trying to help Stiles come to clarity. "I'm your boyfriend. I live with you and your dad."

"And what about my m-mom? Where is she! I need to t-talk to her…"

Derek drew an uneasy breath. He hated reminding Stiles of this. "She died, Stiles… when you were young."

Stiles shook his head, his nostrils flaring in indignant denial. "No. You're lying. G-get out of my way! I'm calling the po—the police."

"Stiles, please..."

"No!" he repeated. "My m-mom isn't d-dead! You're a fucking liar!"

It was as if someone had reached into Derek's gut and twisted its contents. Stiles had often not known who he was in the past… but never before had he so vehemently fought against the truth. "I'm only trying to help you."

"No, you aren't!" Stiles shot back. "If you d-don't leave n-now, I will call the police and we will press ch-charges."

Derek put his hands up and backed up off the porch, waiting until he was out of Stiles' line of sight to grab his phone and call John to explain what happened.

* * *

_As he continued to throw the ball into the air and catch it, he rambled on trying to make sense of what was happening and hoping for Scott to give input, considering that of the two of them, he was the only one no longer carrying his V-Card. "I mean… I know _how_ it happens… as far as the logistics go, but I never imagined I'd be in this position."_

"_All the times you got angry that Danny wasn't hitting on you and you seriously expect me to believe you've never once put thought into carrying on a relationship with another guy?" Scott replied, skepticism dripping from every word._

"_Yeah! I thought I'd lose my virginity to a girl," Stiles admitted. "Namely… her best friend…" He nodded over to Allison who looked shocked._

"_You mean Lydia?"_

"_He's been in love with her for as long as I've known him," Scott explained._

"_Well first of all," Allison said. "Virginity isn't something you just lose… And I don't know what you're so afraid of. Derek seems to really like you."_

_Stiles didn't respond. He only stared straight ahead. When he finally did break the silence between the three, he merely said, "I'm gonna go home. I've got to do some research…"_

_Once he was in the safety of his room, he locked the door and turned on the computer. There was only one way, he surmised, to research what gay sex might be like… and that was to watch it. It didn't take long for him to find a gay porn site. He quickly grabbed a notebook and began jotting down his observations. He studied each frame with a scrupulous scientific eye. He noticed trends. The smaller, younger guy tended to be the penetrated partner. There was a whole litany of vocabulary he'd never heard of. He discovered that he would be considered a 'twink' and that Derek, much to his amusement, would be considered a 'wolf'._

_He began to study body language. The bottoms seemed to express only two emotions: bliss and agony, while the tops seemed to love just about every part of the act._

_Then came videos on blowjobs. They seemed easy enough. Years of taking Ritalin and Adderall and the impatience to actually chew his food the way he should had made sure Stiles' gag reflex was virtually nonexistent. He wasn't worried about that. The thing that worried him most was the fact that Derek sometimes had fangs… and in his human form, he had adorable little bunny teeth that on any other occasion were endearing, but Stiles feared how they might feel accidentally hitting his sensitive skin down there._

_He also noticed that gay men would lick each other in places that didn't seem too pleasant to lick, though it looked like the act was rather enjoyable, Stiles decided he'd consider it only if Derek brought it up. He wondered if Derek even would, considering how closely it resembled certain canine greetings._

_Continuing to watch the videos, he picked up his phone, dialing his best friend. Scott's werewolf hearing only amplified the noise in the background. "Stiles… are you watching porn?"_

"_Yeah," he replied. "Gay porn. I'm trying to figure out what to do when me and Derek finally… you know… do the do…"_

"_Then why are you calling me?"_

"_Because I think I have the basics down but I need to know… are there any werewolf things I should know about? I just don't want to be prepared for one thing only to find out that werewolves do completely different things… you know?" Stiles rambled._

_Scott squeezed his eyes shut, wondering how his friendship had reached such an unhealthy level. "No, Stiles… to my knowledge, we're pretty much the same… down there. The only difference is that we tend to want it more often… and we like to go a little more rough…"_

"_What do you mean 'more rough'?" Stiles demanded, panic filling his voice. _

"_Faster… harder…" Scott clarified. "More animalistic."_

_Stiles gulped. "Do you think I'm a top or a bottom?"_

"_Stiles, I'm not having this conversation with you," Scott said._

"_I'm serious!" he replied. _

"_Why don't you talk about this with Derek?"_

_Stiles heard a struggle on the other end before Allison's voice came on the phone. "Stiles, you need to talk to Derek about this stuff. He's the one you're going to be in bed with… He's the one who should answer your questions. If you're not mature enough to talk to your boyfriend about sex… then maybe you shouldn't be doing it."_

_He didn't appreciate the lecture, but her argument was sound. "Fine… I'll ask Derek…"_

"_Ask me what?" Derek asked, climbing through Stiles' window._

"_Jesus Christ!" Stiles exclaimed. "Derek… I'm not sure about werewolf etiquette… but normal people use doors…"_

"_What?" Derek asked sheepishly as Stiles hung up his phone._

"_Stop sneaking into my window!" Stiles scolded. "Use the front door like a normal person. You're a broody Alpha werewolf, not an emo sparkling vampire!"_

"_Did you just make a Twilight reference?"_

"_And you understood it," Stiles replied. "Neither of us have clean hands here…"  
_

_Derek smirked as he approached Stiles, letting his arms snake around the human's slender waist as their lips met. "So what was it you wanted to ask me?"_

* * *

John rushed home the moment Derek called him, but they agreed that Derek should find go somewhere else to be until Stiles snapped out of it. What they didn't agree on was how far away Derek should go. Derek was content hanging out in the woods nearby until he got the word it was safe to come back. John thought he should go back to his loft. The thought of being so far away was troubling because he still didn't trust John not to have Stiles bitten while he was gone.

Unfortunately, he simply had to trust his father-in-law. However he didn't go to his loft. He went to the hollowed-out shell of his childhood home, the Hale mansion. It was once home to an expansive library of everything supernatural. As Alpha, his mother ensured that all members of the Hale family knew of any dangers that might be out there waiting for them. It had been, after all, the job of the Hale pack to protect the town from these dangers. The majority of the library burned in the fire that claimed the lives of his parents, cousins, aunt, and little sister. "So much lost," he whispered.

There were three books that he'd only heard his mother mention a few times. He had reason to believe they never existed at all, though if they did, he was certain that his mother would have kept them somewhere safe and secure. The few items that survived the inferno had been taken to New York when he moved there with Laura, then shipped back when he relocated to Beacon Hills following her death. Unfortunately none of those items held what he so fervently sought.

Stiles had always operated in shades of grey. It was something that endeared him to Derek over the nearly insufferable goodness of Scott, the True Alpha. Stiles had, in the past, made the tough calls that one might find to be less than morally upright. Maybe, Derek reasoned, he should follow in his boyfriend's footsteps in that regard.

As he searched for what could be false walls or hollow spots in the floor that might show where the former Hale Alpha might have hidden these books.

He froze as he caught a scent. "What are you doing, Derek?"

The young Alpha snarled as he saw his uncle enter the room. "It's none of your business!"

"You're not the only one left alive who grew up in this house," Peter reminded him. "It's just as much a part of my birthright as it is yours. It's obvious you're looking for something. But you won't find anything here. I've already taken it."

"You don't know what I'm looking for," Derek argued. He flashed his eyes ominously.

"You're looking for a way to save your human," Peter replied. "You already know how to do it, though."

"I won't bite him," Derek growled.

"Then get Scott to do it for you. Make him do your dirty work. That's the reason I turned him to begin with," Peter said, drawing closer to Derek. "Or I could arrange to have a different Alpha bite him…"

This time Derek didn't just growl or snarl. He shifted, slashing his claws across his uncle's chest. He remembered how well that worked out. "The last time you took it upon yourself to have someone I loved bitten… it killed her."

"Are you still holding onto petty little things like that?" Peter asked, picking himself up from the floor. "Come on, Derek. You really need to learn to let go. And if memory serves… _you_ were the one who killed Paige. After all… your eyes turned cold, steely blue that night… That is, of course, until you got all hopped up on Alpha juice."

"Why couldn't you have just stayed dead?" Derek growled.

"Because apparently, Hell is being stuck here with you," Peter replied. A sinister smile crept across his face. "But you know… there's another way you could save him. He'd heal up all nicely… and you can keep him weak and helpless, just like he wants."

"He wants to stay human," Derek said.

"Isn't that what I said?"

* * *

_Stiles' fingers traced the swirls of Derek's triskele tattoo. There was much about this experience that the porn videos didn't prepare him for. But they especially didn't prepare him for this. The part where afterwards, when he was lying next to his boyfriend with a million things going through his head. Part of him wanted to just have more sex. It was almost like opening a can of Pringles. Now that he knew what it felt like, he wanted more… he wanted a lot more. But he hated himself for thinking that._

"_I've never heard you be so quiet," Derek said softly. "Especially not after being so loud. Are you alright?"_

"_Yeah," Stiles replied. "I think I'm ok. Was I good?"_

"_You were perfect," Derek replied. He heard Stiles' heart race as he replied. "Are you sure you're alright?"_

"_I don't know," he said, sitting up. He pulled the blankets further up his body. Derek turned onto his side, his hand reaching toward Stiles' knee, hoping to provide comfort. "I'm happy, mostly. I mean… that was great. But I also feel bad…"_

"_Are you in pain?" Derek asked. "Did I hurt you?"_

_Stiles shook his head, caressing Derek's hand, which still rested on his leg. "No. But I'm scared I hurt you…"_

"_You got a little carried away at one point, but I've already healed. I'm a werewolf, remember?"_

"_That's not what I meant," Stiles said, moving to his feet and pacing. "We shared something amazing… and I love that you were my first… but now I can't stop thinking about the fact that I'm going to die from this disease and now we've done this thing…"_

"_We had sex, Stiles," Derek said. "Just… calm down. Sit with me. Let's talk about what's on your mind."_

_Stiles shook his head. "I can't sit down right now… and I really can't sit next to you."_

_It was Derek's turn to feel vulnerable and guilty. "Why not?"_

"_Because I feel like the most horrible… selfish person who has ever walked the face of the earth and I hate myself because I feel like I'm trapping you in something that's only going to hurt you… yet I also hate myself because this was supposed to be something great and amazing and I'm too bogged down with self-loathing to enjoy it… like I should." His gaze finally moved from the floor back to Derek, who smelled the tears rolling down Stiles' cheek before he saw them._

_The Alpha moved off the bed, standing in front of the trembling human. Stiles collapsed into sobs against Derek's chest. Derek simply held him, unsure how else to help._

"_Everything we do as a couple is going to have this fucking disease hanging over it!" he wept._

_Derek moved his hands to Stiles' shoulder, pulling him away, staring him straight in the eyes. "You're not a disease, Stiles. You simply have one. But this? What we did tonight? That was just us. The disease can't take that away from us."_

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thanks for reading! I tried to put in some comedy because otherwise this story is just too depressing. I hope you really enjoyed it, though. Please drop me a line in a comment, on Twitter, or on Tumblr where I'm orioniswatching and "forevermyalpha" respectively! Also... I'm going to be adding chapter names soon. If you have any suggestions for the chapters I've already posted, please let me know!


	5. Chapter 5

The confusion took three days to finally abate. When it did, Stiles was weak and exhausted. John immediately called Derek, who rushed over. He'd gotten the information he needed, even if it wasn't from the source he wanted.

As he stepped into Stiles' room, he saw the weak smile that he returned with tears as he rushed to Stiles' side, climbing into the bed alongside him. "Welcome back," Derek whispered, kissing Stiles' forehead.

"I'm s-sorry I d-d-did that," Stiles replied.

The stutter was back and worse than ever. Derek realized that his fear had been realized. The progress made was just a surge. "It's alright," Derek replied, "I missed you, though."

"I l-love you," Stiles replied. "D-d-d-don't forget that."

"I would never forget you, Stiles," Derek assured him.

He could tell that Stiles was tired and wanted to sleep, so he let him, but made sure to stay next to him the entire night.

* * *

"_I can see that you're thinking about something," Derek said. "I can practically see the wheels turning in that pretty little head of yours."_

_Stiles smiled a half-hearted smile. "I don't want to answer because it's depressing and I'm worried I'm starting to become a bit of a downer."_

_Derek moved closer. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Tell me."_

"_Remember the night of the meteor shower?" Stiles began. Derek nodded. "Well, I mentioned a list… Things I want to accomplish before I die. And I am realizing… I won't get to do any of that."_

"_Who says?" Derek demanded. "You could go a very long time before things get really bad."_

"_But what about the really important ones?" Stiles asked. "What about number 1: getting married in the church my parents were married? Or number 4: Make a medical discovery?"_

"_Well you've already done 42," Derek said. _

"_Befriend someone you don't like," Stiles recited._

"_You kind of went somewhat above and beyond on that one," Derek pointed out. "I'm going to make sure that as many items on your list get accomplished as possible."_

_As he noticed the changing leaves, he realized how fully this disease was affecting his outlook on everything. This was usually his favorite time of year. Now he was reminded that the leaves were only beautiful because they were dead and dying. He wondered if that was why Derek was sticking so closely to him. There was no need for long-term commitment. It was like those people who "fall in love with" and marry inmates on Death Row. He instantly felt horrible for even entertaining the thought. "Do you think I'm going to get to graduate?"_

"_Stiles… have you considered that maybe you don't have to die?" Derek asked._

"_Have you not been listening the last several months?" Stiles demanded. "I have frontotemporal dementia! I am going to die."_

_Shaking his head, Derek tried to clarify. "Medical science can't cure certain things… Cancer, AIDS, asthma, epilepsy, dementia…"_

"_Stop reminding me of things I already know. It's depressing enough as it is."_

"_Medical science can't cure these things," Derek repeated. "But the supernatural world can. One bite and I could fix what's wrong with you. Even though it's genetic, your body would constantly heal from the damage it causes. You'll live even longer than you would have without FTD. You've seen what it did to Scott, Isaac, Boyd, and Erica."_

_The weight of what he was saying hit Stiles like a train. "Are you saying you want to give me the Bite?"_

_As Stiles watched him, he noticed that Derek looked scared. "I'm saying that I love you…" He swallowed as he choked back tears. "And I don't want to lose you if there's something I can do to prevent it."_

_For the first time since his diagnosis, it was Stiles' turn to comfort Derek. However, even in the face of what was certainly going to be a slow, dreary death, Stiles was unsure if he wanted what Derek was offering. Certainly, it would ensure he lived a long and productive life. But he knew that the bite of a werewolf came with its dangers. "Let me think about it," he said._

* * *

The smell hung in the room in a way that was nearly suffocating to Derek, but he refused to leave Stiles' side. John couldn't smell it, but Derek didn't expect him to. He refused to name that scent, though. If he named it, it became real and he couldn't take that.

"We should call Scott and Melissa," John managed through tears. Derek only nodded. John couldn't keep his voice calm long enough to conduct a phone call so he merely texted them that they needed to come over as soon as possible.

Tremors shook Stiles' limbs, though he didn't wake up. Derek did his best not to cry.

It didn't take long for Scott and Melissa to show. One look at John and Melissa's eyes began to well up. As Scott entered Stiles' room, he glanced at Derek, he knew. The room smelled like death. Stiles' body was shutting down and they didn't have long.

Melissa checked his vitals. "I'm not sure that he'll last the night here."

"I don't think he'll survive it if we move him. He only got progressively worse in the hospital," John said softly. "We'll let him stay here in his bed. Where he's comfortable."

"We should say our good-byes," Scott said.

They let him go first. John, Melissa, and Derek waited downstairs in silence. In order to respect everyone's privacy, Derek had to focus his hearing on the noises of life going on outside. Nobody out there knew that within these walls, more than one life was ending. Stiles was dying and Derek only hoped that John was serious with his threat. He knew how long a werewolf could live without the interference of Hunters. He couldn't imagine going that long without Stiles in his life.

Scott returned and Melissa went up. Then John. Then it was Derek's turn. He crawled into the bed next to him and cried into his chest. "I love you so much," he whispered. "I can't lose you, Stiles. I really can't. I know I fought for your choice all this time, but I thought I would be strong enough to hold out. I'm not. I just hope you forgive me for this."

* * *

"_You should know I don't like surprises," Stiles grumbled. The blindfold over his eyes made him entirely reliant upon Scott and Derek to get him to wherever they were headed._

"_It's true," Scott agreed. "I once tried to throw him a surprise birthday party and he punched me in the nose."_

"_We're werewolves, Scott. We'll heal if he throws a punch," Derek replied. "Besides… I'm his boyfriend. He's not gonna punch me."_

"_Don't be so sure about that," Stiles growled._

"_I'll just grab your arms and pin you…" Derek said._

"_Don't threaten me with a good time," Stiles warned._

_Scott gagged._

"_We're here," Derek announced. Stiles felt rough hands move him into position before Derek's voice gave him permission to remove the blindfold._

_Derek was standing on one knee, a golden band displayed outstretched to Stiles. As he looked around, he realized that where they were was where it all began. It was where he'd been drinking the night of the meteor shower. He suspected then that he was sick. The first symptoms had begun in the weeks prior to that night. "What is all this?" Stiles asked._

"_It's the first step to number 1," Derek replied. "You can't get married in the same church as your parents unless you're engaged, first."_

"_Derek… I'm not even 17!" Stiles exclaimed._

"_I don't remember asking your age," Derek said. "But I am asking for your hand in marriage. I have your dad's blessing already. All I need is for you to say 'yes'."_

"_But what if I don't live to see 18?" Stiles asked._

_Derek shrugged. "That isn't an excuse. I love you, Stiles. And I want to spend the rest of your life with you."_

_Stiles knew that Derek didn't mean anything by it, but it still stung to hear that. Yet, he smiled as he said "Yes, I'll marry you. Assuming I live long enough."_

_Derek slipped the ring onto Stiles' finger. "You're not allowed to die," he said. "With this ring, I forbid you to die."_

"_I'm not sure it works that way," Stiles said, pulling Derek to his feet so they could kiss._

* * *

Scott did his best to give Derek and Stiles their privacy. He concentrated on his mom's heartbeat as he rested his head on her shoulder. He couldn't believe his best friend was upstairs dying. He knew that this disease would kill him, but before this moment, it hadn't felt as real. He felt he could put it off. And now, he looked back at all the missed opportunities he had these last few years and he was furious with himself. He was supposed to be Stiles' best friend… his brother, even, but he hadn't been able to handle watching Stiles fade away so he left that to Derek.

Melissa was terrified for John. She watched how badly he took Claudia's death and didn't know if he'd survive losing his son. She had only ever seen him cry twice in the many years she had known him: once when Claudia died and once shortly after Stiles was diagnosed. Yet now, she watched as he sobbed helplessly into his hands. He didn't look like the strong Sheriff this town knew and loved. He very much was a man defeated. He saw no way he could live on after this, surrounded by photos and memories of those he loved most dear. It wasn't right and it wasn't fair, Melissa thought, that this dementia would claim all three lives of the Stilinski family.

John thought only of how at least he'd be there with Stiles as he passed and he said a prayer that heaven might be real and Claudia would be there to welcome him. He jumped to his feet. "I need air," he gasped as he rushed to the door.

Fearful that he might do something reckless, Melissa followed him. "John," she said softly. "He'll be surrounded by people he loves…"

"He's too young!" he replied. "Why couldn't it have been me? I would trade places with him in a heartbeat because at least he would have you and Scott…"

"And Derek," she added.

"Derek's the reason he's dying," John snapped. "This is _his_ fault and he's up there acting like he's so torn up about this when all along, he had the power to stop it… meanwhile I'm losing the last of my family. It's like I'm watching Claudia die all over again…"

"Stiles, for reasons I'll never understand, wanted to stay human," Melissa said. "Derek was just trying to respect that wish."

"Well as far as I'm concerned, Derek Hale murdered my son," John said coldly. "And when Stiles…" He couldn't bring himself to actually say the words, but he knew Melissa would be able to fill in the blank so he skipped them and finished the sentence, "I'm going to put a bullet through his head."

"John… don't," Melissa begged. "Derek has been great with Stiles. And you'll spend the rest of your life in prison."

"It sure as hell beats living here!" John roared. "Waking up in the morning and walking past his bedroom door… seeing the spot in the kitchen where I marked his height... This house is filled with the memories I have of my wife and my son. Anywhere will be better than spending the rest of my life in this house without them."

* * *

"_Happy birthday!" John chimed as he burst into Stiles' room. Stiles fought the urge to interject the word 'last' and ruin the moment. "I know I was supposed to wait until your party, but I couldn't."_

_Stiles absentmindedly played with the engagement ring on his finger. He had been wearing it for weeks and it still felt foreign. "Thanks," he said._

"_Who would have thought that you be engaged before you turned 18," John asked, sitting down on his son's bed._

"_It feels very Victorian," Stiles remarked. "He asked you for my hand in marriage… I'm underage… there was a very long courting time before we… you know."_

_John chuckled before the smile slowly faded. He knew that the timeline they looked at ranged anywhere from three to twenty years. Claudia lasted only eight years, which was average. "If you wanted to marry him before you turn 18, I'd sign off on it, you know."_

"_I know," Stiles said. "But… all of this sounds like Cancer Perks."_

"_You don't have cancer," John replied, obviously confused._

"_No… It's like from this book that I'm reading. This kid has cancer and she's going to die from it and she explains how when a young person has cancer, they get things that normal healthy kids don't," Stiles replied. "Normal healthy kids don't get to get engaged and married before they know if they're going to graduate high school. You wouldn't be doing this if I were normal and healthy. You'd be pissed about him being in his mid-twenties. You would have threatened to shoot him if he even thought of taking my virginity. Can you please just treat me like a normal teenager? God knows being normal is going to be hard enough from now on."_

_John cocked his head to the side. "So do you want me to ground you?"_

"_Maybe not on my birthday, no," Stiles reasoned. "But from here on out… can we go back to our normal Stilinski men thing? Please?"_

_Smiling weakly at his son, John nodded. "Sure thing, kiddo."_

* * *

Tears continued to stream down Derek's cheek as he interlaced his fingers with Stiles', bringing his husband's hand up, allowing it to brush across his scruffy cheek before kissing it. Once he began, there was no going back. "Please don't hate me for this," Derek pleaded as he began to draw the pain from Stiles. It felt unlike anything he ever experienced before. The veins in his hand and arm ran black, going all the way up.

His wolf fought against him, its instinct for self-preservation was kicking in. It was telling him to let go… to run and save himself from the pain and devastation that Stiles' death was inevitably going to cause. However, he fought that urge and held tightly.

The extra spark he possessed as an Alpha… the one that made his eyes burn bright red with power… it was fading. He was forcing it into Stiles. He was forcing him to survive and heal.

It felt as though every cell in his body was tearing in half, only to fuse back together over and over again. His eyes had remained tightly shut as he willed himself not to let go, not to run from the searing pain his act of sacrifice was causing him.

He thought of his sister and his mother, and all of the other respected Hale Alphas before him. He wondered what they might think of what he was doing with the spark that had once belonged to them… that had traveled for thousands of years since werewolves first came into existence, mother to daughter, father to son… each generation doing the sacred duty of protecting those who could not protect themselves and saving innocent lives. He hoped they would understand why he was doing this. He hoped they would be supportive.

There was nothing to say he couldn't become an Alpha again sometime later. But now, power wasn't anywhere on his mind. All he cared about was ensuring that this young man in his arms would live the life he deserved.

The agony finally became too much that he couldn't keep his cries of pain inside. Scott ran up the stairs, taking two and three steps in single bounds. "Derek, what are you doing?" he demanded.

Derek felt it. The sudden drop in his power. His eyes faded from vibrant red to their former icy blue. Stiles gasped awake, energy coursing through him like lightning. Derek collapsed onto the bed, lacking even the energy to move. "Scott… what happened?" Stiles asked, trying to wake his unconscious husband.

It took hours for Derek to wake up. When he finally did, Stiles was sitting on the side of the bed, stroking his arm in a complete reversal of the last year and a half. "It worked," Derek managed, slowly sitting up.

Stiles nodded. "I'm not sure what you did… but I feel normal…"

"I sacrificed my status as an Alpha," Derek replied. "It was the only thing I could think to do that would keep you human… but also keep you alive."

"You shouldn't have done that," Stiles said. But he didn't want to seem ungrateful, so he kissed Derek's forehead. "But thank you for doing it."

"I couldn't lose you, Stiles," Derek whispered. "I wasn't ready to let you go."

Stiles could tell that this conversation was quickly sapping him. He snuggled closely to the werewolf. "And I actually wasn't ready to die yet. Go ahead and rest," he urged. "I'll be here when you wake up."

It only took minutes for Derek to drift back into unconsciousness.

When he woke up again, he wasn't sure how much time had passed. He felt marginally better and was able to move. He knew his strength would return on the next full moon, which was in a few days. Stiles rounded the corner. "Good morning," he said brightly. He hadn't slept, unable to in the midst of being able to enjoy a sense of mobility and autonomy he hadn't enjoyed since he was hospitalized.

"Morning," Derek replied simply. Again, Stiles sat next to him.

"Scott has talked to your Betas. He's willing to be their Alpha and protect them until we find a way to get you back to Alpha status," Stiles told him.

Derek shook his head. "There are only two ways to become an Alpha. Either you steal the power from one, or you become one by goodness of character… like Scott did. Even though I was trying to do the right thing, Paige's death was my fault." He pointed to his eyes, which flashed bright blue before returning to his beautiful normal green. "True Alpha isn't an option for me… and my mom always said… as a werewolf, I'm a predator but that doesn't mean I have to be a killer. I'll be alright as an Omega. I've got you."

"You told me yourself… Omegas don't usually live long. We can help you…"

"I won't let you," Derek replied. "I could have saved your life with the Bite. You didn't want me to, so I didn't… Now please… I'm not going to kill to become an Alpha again."

Stiles froze, realizing he never actually told Derek why he refused the Bite. "I only refused the Bite because a supernatural fix wasn't an option for my mom. It seemed like cowardice to completely change what I am to avoid dying like my mom did. She was my one of my biggest heroes. She struggled so much… it wasn't fair that I got such an easy way out."

"I don't know if what I did will fix you permanently," Derek admitted. "It may have only bought you some time. But don't you think your mom would want you to live the longest, happiest life you could?"

Stiles sniffled and wiped away a tear that fell down his cheek. "She would," Stiles agreed. "But I wanted the same for her. I just… I wish I would have known about this… or that my parents would have when she was dying from it."

"But if she were here, don't you think she'd tell you to take any option you have?" Neither of them knew that John had been listening until he spoke. Stiles looked from Derek to his father, startled. Derek readjusted the way he was sitting as Stiles moved from his side to his father's open arms, crying softly into his shoulder. John squeezed his son tightly before adding. "Because I know she would have."

* * *

**Author's Note:** The story doesn't end here, folks! Let me know what you think. I've still got plenty more of this story to tell... more laughs, more tears... lots more tears. :) Also, the book Stiles referred to was _The Fault in Our Stars_ by John Green. If you haven't read it, stop reading fanfiction and read that book now. It's amazing.


	6. Chapter 6

The cold air bit at his nose and fingers and he felt like he might collapse at any moment, but he continued to run. For the last several miles, he'd been alone, but Derek soon caught up with him. Stiles knew that Derek was holding himself back to stay at the same pace, but it felt good to run beside him nonetheless. They continued running until Stiles felt he was going to pass out and finally stopped.

"You wouldn't be trying to run away from anything, would you?" Derek asked.

"No," Stiles replied, struggling to catch his breath. "But I was bed-ridden and wheel chair-bound for so long that I just had to run…"

"I understand," Derek replied simply. "But don't you think you should ease into it? Sort of take it slowly?"

Stiles shook his head. "You gave me a second chance. I'm going to make the most of it."

Derek pulled Stiles close, breathing in the sweat that covered his husband's skin. He let their lips graze, before making more purposeful contact between them and deepening the kiss. They stood there, cars zooming by them, just enjoying the feeling of being in one another's arms. When the kiss ended, Derek placed another on Stiles' forehead. "Just promise me you won't overdo it, okay?"

"Derek, I'm healthy now, thanks to you. I just needed to do something to feel alive," Stiles said. "Besides… running lowers your risk of dementia."

He realized he wasn't going to win this one; so instead, Derek just squeezed his arms tightly around Stiles and held him close.

* * *

_It wasn't the smartest thing Stiles had ever done. In fact, it probably ranked in the top 10 list of the stupidest things he'd ever done. But since it was becoming clear that he wasn't going to get to have a normal Young Adult life, he was going to make the most of the time he had and make a lifetime of mistakes to yield a lifetime of experiences._

_As he sat on his bed, the little white pill in his hand, he felt nervous. His dad was going to be gone for the night and he had Scott on speed dial in case anything went wrong. He put on some music and popped the pill. He wasn't sure how long it was until he felt the bass vibrating through his body in the most amazing ways. Suddenly every note and every drop was exactly what he needed at exactly the right time. He began to dance harder than he had ever danced before in his life._

_Though it felt like minutes, more than an hour had passed. The drug was not quite yet in full-swing, but still, Stiles felt amazing. He felt free and liberated. Suddenly, the fact that he was sick and even dying from dementia didn't matter to him. He felt as though he had wings._

_Stiles froze. He glanced over to his window. It was shut and suddenly that was a problem. He moved over, wrestling with it before forcing it all the way open. The cold breeze danced across his skin and delighting him in ways he never thought possible from a breeze. _

_He stepped outside onto the roof. The breeze was able to hit much more of his body. It was glorious. "I can fly," he said softly as he extended his arms in a very Kate Winslet manner, allowing the wind to envelope him. _

_He wasn't even jolted from his perch at the top of the world by Derek's frightened call of "Stiles! What are you doing up there?"_

"_I can fly!" Stiles repeated. "Do you want to see?"_

"_NO!"_

"_I'll fly down to you! Stay there!" Stiles called to Derek._

"_Don't move!" Derek ordered. "I'll be up in just a second."_

"_Hurry!" Stiles urged, eager to have Derek join him._

* * *

An awkward silence continued to exist between Derek and Stiles' father. All conversation revolved around Stiles. "When are you going to start applying for colleges?" "What do you have planned next?" The truth was that Stiles had no idea. He didn't expect to live this long. None of this ever seemed like an option and frankly, now that he had this second chance at life, he didn't want to spend it in a classroom. He wanted to spend it travelling and making up for lost time.

His father just didn't seem to understand that. He wanted the pre-sickness plan to resume. Stiles just couldn't go along with it. As he stood in the kitchen, mindlessly running a sponge over the same spot on the same plate over and over, he didn't hear his father come in. "While I appreciate your attention to detail, I think that particular plate is clean."

Stiles jumped, his hand slamming down onto the counter as he tried to catch the breath that was forced out of his lungs in his fright. "Please don't scare me like that again," Stiles said.

"I could say the same thing to you," John said.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I still want you to let Derek or Scott bite you," he said.

"Derek's not an Alpha anymore. He can't bite me," Stiles replied. "And in case it escaped your notice, he's not an Alpha because he healed me. I'm healthy. I'm fine."

"For now," John said. "But what about if it comes back? I don't want to live my life worrying that I'm going to have to bury my son."

"The Bite is dangerous, Dad!" Stiles yelled. "There's a very good chance that you'd bury me anyway, and even sooner if I take the Bite. Derek's first girlfriend died from the bite."

"And Derek's first boyfriend and husband might die from dementia. It's worth the risk," John said.

"Maybe to you, Dad! But not to me!" Stiles said. "Now please… can we drop this? I'm sick of everything being an argument. I got a second chance at life. We should all be ecstatic. Instead, you and Derek don't even talk. You have no idea what he sacrificed to save me. You should be more grateful to him than to throw away everything he gave up! You should love and respect me enough to let me just live my life."

"I love and respect you more than you'll ever know, Stiles," John said softly. "But I'll never be okay with the idea of losing you."

"Dad, you could lose me anyway. You're a Sheriff, remember? Car crashes, being in the wrong place at the wrong time… a million different things could happen to me that don't involve disease," Stiles reasoned.

John frowned. "You're right. I'm sorry," he said as he pulled Stiles into a hug. "I'm going to talk to Derek later today or tomorrow."

"I swear to God, Dad," Stiles said. "If you're not nice to him, I'll move out."

John chuckled. "I'll be nice. I promise."

* * *

_Derek angrily yanked Stiles into the house, tossing the human on the bed with ease. Stiles' pupils were fully dilated and Derek could hear his teeth grinding due to the effects of the drug. "What the hell is wrong with you?"_

"_What the hell wrong with you?" Stiles parroted. "You're killing my high."_

"_Good," Derek growled. "Why the fuck would you use a drug like that?"_

"_If you're not going to fuck me, then go away, Derek… I'm feeling really good right now."_

_Derek's nostrils flared and glare Stiles hadn't seen in a very long time fell over his face. It was a mix of disappointment, anger, and pain. Stiles hated seeing it on his boyfriend's face. "I could pick up the phone and call your father right now but I don't want to do that because of how humiliating it will be to him. We'll talk about this when you're sober. I'm going to sleep on the couch."_

"_Derek, please don't be like that," Stiles begged as Derek walked away. He was surprised when Derek returned a few minutes later with two bottles of water._

"_Drink all of this," he said, setting the bottles on the bedside table and shutting Stiles' window. "I'll talk to you in the morning."_

"_Will you at least give me a kiss goodnight?" Stiles asked._

"_I don't even want to look at you right now," Derek growled furiously. "So no. Go to bed."_

_Stiles' euphoric high was definitely on the downward slide. He hated the fact that he'd made Derek mad at him. He grabbed his phone and sent a simple text: "I'm sorry I disappointed you. I love you" before he cried himself to sleep, barely even touching the water._

_The next morning, Stiles and Derek had their first fight as a couple. It started with Stiles trying to apologize and ended with Stiles telling Derek he never wanted to see him again and Derek replying that he wasn't sure why he ever trusted a human in the first place… that all they'd ever done was disappoint and hurt him._

* * *

Derek noticed a change in his build without his Alpha powers. His werewolf metabolism meant that he'd always had a zero percent body fat content, but when he gained the status of Alpha, his musculature had bulked up in ways that even he didn't expect. Now, his muscles were tired a little more easily and his body had taken a leaner look. As an Omega, this was a problem for him. He had no pack ties to help strengthen him and felt the compulsive need to work out each day for several hours.

He always started his day with a series of push-ups, then crunches, then a few more push-ups before using the porch as a pull-up bar. And though their speeds greatly differed, Stiles liked to run alongside him, which meant that for the purposes of endurance training, Derek needed to go on at least one run by himself in the early hours of the morning when not even the birds were awake yet.

As he headed downstairs to begin his routine, he noticed instantly that something was different. The coffee maker, which was typically set to begin brewing an entire hour later, was nearly done, by Derek's estimation. Cautiously, he stepped into the kitchen to find the Sheriff sitting there, a half a grapefruit and newspaper in hand. "Good morning, Derek," he said.

"Uh… Good morning?" Derek replied, incredibly confused.

"Sit down, would you?" Derek pulled up a seat next to John. "I want things to go back to the way they were between us."

"You made it pretty difficult to do that," Derek said. "The only reason I'm not holding it against you was that if what I did hadn't worked, I was planning on committing suicide anyway."

"I wasn't thinking rationally, Derek. I'm very sorry," he said.

"I accept your apology, John," Derek said diplomatically. "But it's going to take some time for me to trust you again."

* * *

_Derek didn't need to bother asking who it was knocking at the door. As he slid open the heavy door, he saw Scott. "What are you doing here?" he asked._

"_Your absence was noticed at Stiles' birthday party," Scott said. "By pretty much everyone."_

"_We broke up," Derek replied. "I'm pretty sure that means birthday party invitations get rescinded."_

"_He loves you, Derek," Scott said. "He was upset. He said things he didn't mean."_

_Derek turned away from Scott, his claws piercing the upholstery on his favorite chair. "Don't you think I was listening to his heart rate the entire time? It remained steady. He meant what he said."_

_Scott sighed. "He's pushing all of us away because he thinks he's going to die from this disease."_

"_Whether that's true or not, the fact remains: Stiles told me he never wanted to see me again. So until _he_ rescinds that, I'm going to keep my distance and try to move on," Derek said. "You can show yourself out."_

"_He's worried about you," Scott said. "Can I at least tell him you're alright?"_

"_I'm not sure why you'd want to lie to him, but if you think it will help, then sure," Derek said. The truth was, he _wasn't_ alright. Far from it. He had barely eaten and couldn't really sleep. He had nobody. He missed his sister. Laura had always been his best friend. In their entire lives together, they had never fought. Not even once. She was the person he went to when he had heartaches and sadness._

_He didn't think he could go to his Betas. He was the Alpha now. It was his responsibility to lead them. He _knew_ he couldn't go to his uncle for the same reason he couldn't go to Scott: he couldn't trust them. Scott sighed again and left. Derek soon left behind him, heading to the burned shell of a house he used to call home._

_In the yard was the grave he'd dug for Laura, covered in wolfsbane to prevent another werewolf from digging her up. Though the ideal situation was her still alive and as his Alpha, he had to deal with the reality of the present; which was that his sister was dead, her body lying in an unmarked grave on what had become county property. "Hey sis," Derek said. "I really need you right now."_

_He felt the lump form in his throat. This was painful for several reasons. He'd done his best not to revisit her grave because he knew it was a deadly mistake to linger on her death, even though it had nearly been the thing that made him snap. As he talked to her, he told her about Stiles. He told her about how the weak, squishy, breakable, vulnerable human had managed to get what was left of his heart and shred it. He told her how he felt stupid and infantile to have let a human hurt him yet again. He wiped several tears from his cheek. "I love him, Laura. I really shouldn't. But I love him."_

_He could almost hear her voice in his head saying, "Then why are you telling me? Shouldn't you be telling him?" It was the exact advice she'd given him when he went to her after realizing he was in love with Paige. He knew it's what she would say now. He got into his car and headed over to Stiles' house._

_No longer feeling welcome enough to just go inside, he rang the doorbell. A surprised Sheriff answered. "Hey, Derek!" he said. "Are you and him finally back together?"_

"_No," Derek said. "I just… I needed to talk to him."_

"_He's upstairs, but I have instructions not to let you in," John said. "I'm really sorry, Derek."_

_Stiles was headed downstairs, pulling his lacrosse hoodie on. "Dad, it's alright. What do you want, Derek?"_

"_I just wanted to say happy birthday," he replied._

"_You could have sent me a text, an email, hell… you could have even used snail mail. Why did you come back?" Stiles said._

"_Stiles! Manners!" John scolded._

"_I told you I never wanted to see you again and I meant it," Stiles said. _

_Derek's eyes narrowed. "Say it again."_

"_I. Never. Want. To. See. You. Again!" Stiles said. "Now if you don't get out of my house, I'm going to call the Argents and explain that I have a bit of a wolf problem."_

"_You're lying," Derek challenged. "You should know better than to lie to a werewolf. What is this really about?"_

"_I'm not having this conversation in front of my dad!"_

"_Well, I'm heading to work. So don't use me as an excuse to run from your problems, Stiles. I love you, I'll see you in the morning," John said, scooting out the door beside Derek, leaving them alone. "It was good seeing you, Derek."_

"_Good seeing you, too, sir," Derek replied awkwardly before turning back to Stiles. "Alright… spill. What is this really about?"_

"_I have nothing to say to you, Derek! Get the hell out of my house!"_

"_You owe me an explanation!" Derek yelled. "I deserve at least that!" Stiles glared back at Derek for several minutes. Neither blinked, despite the burn that developed in their eyes. "You threw me away like a piece of garbage."_

"_I didn't need the lecture then and I don't need it now," Stiles said coldly._

"_THEN FUCKING ANSWER ME!" Derek roared. The house seemed to vibrate with the force of his rage. _

"_Why would you even trust my answer? After all, I'm a human and all we ever do is lie!" Stiles shot back. After several more minutes of tense silence, he finally blinked. "I love you, Derek. You know that. But you're too fucking noble to just let me die. I'm getting worse and I really don't want you to see me like this."_

"_So you broke up with me?" Derek demanded. "Why?"_

"_Because my doctor says that if I keep degenerating at this rate, I've only got a year… two if I'm lucky. The other day, I had my first fugue state. It was right after my party ended and it took me more than a day to come out of it. I have no idea what happened during that time. My dad said I couldn't find my way through the house I grew up in and that I didn't even know who I was," Stiles said._

"_I told you that when that happened, I'd be there to remind you," Derek said._

"_I'm not going to let you become my collateral damage," Stiles whimpered._

"_And I'm not giving you a choice. I'm in this for the long run, Stiles. No matter how long it is," Derek replied as he slowly approached the crying human, pulling him in for a tight hug._

"_I'm so sorry, Derek," Stiles sobbed into the werewolf's strong chest. "You must think I'm awful."_

_Derek's hand rubbed Stiles' back in an attempt to soothe him. "No, I think you're scared and you're used to being independent, so you're lashing out in any attempt to regain that independence."_

"_But I hurt you," Stiles said._

"_I've been hurt before," Derek replied. "But there's a perk to being a werewolf. I can heal."_

"_Will you forgive me?"_

"_Yeah," Derek said. "But don't push me away again. I won't come back."_

* * *

**Author's Note**: So this chapter was supposed to end slightly differently, with a rather heartbreaking scene... but I couldn't figure out how to make it flow, so I'm just going to begin the next chapter with it. I'm sorry it took so long to update this one... I've been having a blast writing Predators and completely forgot about this one! Let me know what you thought!


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